


An Unusual Union

by M_the_giraffe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Boyfriends, Depression, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Gay, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Marriage, Misunderstandings, Peace, Rejection, Self-Harm, gringotts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28514514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_the_giraffe/pseuds/M_the_giraffe
Summary: According to Malfoy tradition, Draco Malfoy must choose a wife to marry at the age of eighteen. But what if he doesn’t want a wife, but a husband? Will he be accepted by not only his family, but his fiancé when they meet? He needs to put away old thoughts and see things through a new lens, as muggles put it.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Drarry - Relationship, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Maybe it won't be so bad

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unorthodox Matchmakers](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/736953) by Phoenix Soar. 



> This fanfic is based off of Unorthodox Matchmakers by Phoenix Soar on Fanfiction.net, so its plot is heavily referenced to in this story as well because it’s such an amazing read and I just couldn’t not use it. Please go read the original! I absolutely recommend it, although I must warn you, it is unfinished. Here’s the link:
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4778047/1/Unorthodox-Matchmakers
> 
> That’s actually the main reason I’m writing it here, too; I wanted to know how it happened so I’m doing it my own way. Feel free to comment along the story any changes or additions you want and I’ll gladly add them!
> 
> If you happen to be Phoenix Soar, hello again! If you do not want your story to be continued here on AO3 or anywhere else, just say it in a comment and I’ll take it off, I don’t want to seem like I’m stealing.
> 
> Please enjoy your reading!
> 
> -M the Giraffe

_‘Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there.’_

Draco slowly read through the lines written above the golden doors of the wizarding bank, remembering the first time he strode under them in awe. After first seeing them, he had imagined they meant that a curse would be put upon anyone who tried to steal from foreign vaults, or at least excruciating pain. But apparently it was just an old dragon. Or so informed the _Daily Prophet._

Almost a year ago, during the war, an article was released in the _Prophet_ saying that Potter had broken into Gringotts with his measly friends and escaped on an Ukrainian Ironbelly. Personally, Draco didn’t belive it; how could stupid Potter have gotten into Gringotts and escaped _on a dragon_ unscathed? Then again, it was _Potter_ he was thinking of.

He always thought Potter was a maniac, a new source of trouble every year they had been at Hogwarts. His father had encouraged him to make friends with the Boy-Who-Lived in first year, convinced it would raise their status even higher, but they all saw how _that_ went. Since then, Draco resented the other boy for not accepting his friendship, he envied the bond that Potter had created with his Gryffindork mates. The only thing resembling it that he had in his possession was Crabbe and Goyle, who followed him everywhere. Then Crabbe - he couldn’t say it - and Goyle avoided him for it.

Well, he did have Blaise, and Pansy. All their parents had known each other since their time in school and the three of them were supposed to have joined the Death Eaters, Draco being the only one who had been forced to get the Mark so early. They were lucky in that sense, Pansy and Blaise. They didn’t have that guilt weighing on them as he did.

And guilt he felt, the war having only ended a month ago. All the lives he felt responsible for, all the pain, all the sorrow, all the grief.

His mother kept telling him to “Cheer up!” because it was his eighteenth birthday. He could tell it was forced, he didn’t point it out. 

Now they were standing outside of Gringotts, the reason still kept quiet by his mother. She said his Father had wanted to come, said that this was a special occasion, that he couldn’t because he was on parole waiting to find how long he would be in Azkaban. 

What kind of special occasion is this? At a bank. He scoffed internally. Worrisome, he thought maybe his biggest secret had been revealed somehow, would he have his money taken away? Maybe he was being kicked out? He didn’t know, but he certainly didn’t want to show his worry and so he kept his mask on tight. 

“How may I help you?” said the goblin, showing its pointed teeth. Draco hid his revulsion, he never liked goblins. 

“We would like to enter the Malfoy family vault,” stated his mother, perfectly wearing the regal look of a queen, beautiful dress robes, chin held high, shoulders back, smooth, silky blond hair elegantly framing her face and curling around her waist. All she needed was a crown. 

“Do you have a key?” asked the goblin, whose name tag informed he was Guirnegs, held out his hand to grasp the golden key Narcissa pulled out of her handbag. His beady eyes scampered over the metal, looking for any deformities to assure it wasn’t an imposter. He gave a quick nod and said “Follow me.”

They walked out of the main hall of the bank and descended a short staircase, ending up next to an old carriage resting on a railway. They climbed in gracefully, Draco thankful for having inherited his mother’s elegance, he wouldn’t want to trip and make a fool of himself. Although, the world already thought he was a fool. 

The goblin sat near the back and pressed a red button, the cart quickly exiting the area and lurching around corners, going lower and lower, faster and faster until they stopped next to a large ornate door. “Vault 208,” Guirnegs proclaimed.

The three of them stepped out of the small carriage and the small goblin put his hand on the door, revealing a small hole in which he inserted the key. He leaned into the door and it pushed open slowly, revealing an obviously large room, though Draco couldn’t see its contents. 

“When you wish to leave, simply call my name, Guirnegs, and I will come with the carriage to take you up. Good day,” he sat back in the ‘driver’s’ seat and the cart rushed upwards.

The mother and son stood in silence for a moment. “Draco,” called his mother, he turned, waiting for her to say more. “You do not know why we are here, I am sorry. I should have told you sooner, but with everything happening with the war and Lucius still waiting for his sentence, I just haven’t had the time to talk to you properly,” she paused, while Draco was getting even more confused.

“When Malfoys turned eighteen, traditionally, that was when we married, usually the pairs were arranged by the parents at the birth of the child, but times have changed.”

Oh so _this_ is what it was about, he would just have to get married! He was worried he would get disowned or someth- wait _WHAT?!_

“Mother, I don’t want to get married! I’m too young! I don’t even _like_ anyo-”

“Draco!” she snapped, immediately regaining her composure. “You do not have to get married right now, it is simply an engagement, but I wasn’t done speaking,” she reprimanded.

“I apologise,” said Draco, still apprehensive.

She nodded, “Now, we do not arrange marriages, we learnt generations ago that those usually don’t end up well. Instead, we have a better way, come, let me show you,” she strode towards the open door of the vault and draco followed. 

He had been in here before, but his breath caught in his throat everytime. Mountains of perfectly stacked galleons, hills of silver sickles, piles of bronze knuts filling the room the size of a gymnasium. Along the walls, paintings, jewelry, armor, swords hung there, other trinkets standing on tables beside them. Diamond chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting bright light upon all the coins in the room, the reflections nearly blinding him. He stood aghast in the entrance, soon realising his mother was already halfway across all the treasure. 

He ran to catch up with her and she soon stopped near a white pedestal, on which a plump velvety green cushion lay, two silver rings sitting on it. A glass dome surrounded them.

“These are engagement rings,” motioned his mother, Draco’s breath hitched in his throat. “They are the ancient Malfoy rings, they have been worn by every single couple in the Malfoy family before their binding marriage rings. They will be yours as you find your future partner,” she pulled out her wand, pointing at the glass casing, lifting it off of the pedestal and gently placing it on the ground. She stood up straight and looked at Draco. 

“Mother, please understand,” Draco started, “I’m not ready to get married.”

“Dragon, this is entirely your choice, but it has been tradition to at least _choose_ a bride at eighteen.”  
  
“But-”

“No, Draco, listen. These rings are no ordinary pieces of jewelry. They are magical wishing rings. When you put one on, you will be able to ask for any quality you would like in a partner and it will find one for you. As long as you stay honest with yourself and say the right things, you will have the perfect bride by your side within a few days. And do close your mouth, Draco. It’s unbecoming.”

Draco shut his mouth, not realising he had been gaping at her. “But, how do they work? I mean, how does it find the _perfect_ person and bring her to me?” 

“It does not _bring_ her to you, it only appears on her hand. She is the one who has to find us through the knowledge that it’s a Malfoy ring.”

Visibly confused, he asked more, “How would she know it’s a Malfoy ring? If _I_ didn’t know it existed, how would a stranger know? What if my so-called ‘soulmate’ is a muggle? They would have no idea!”

“To answer your last question first, the ring only finds a person with your criteria in the wizarding world. It was created hundreds of years ago, its founders were prejudiced against muggles, so they never would have allowed a Malfoy to marry one. And second: we will publish a short article and photograph of the ring in the _Daily Prophet_ so everyone is informed of the situation. The girl, unless she doesn’t read the paper, will know the day she finds the ring on her hand.”

Draco nodded, now understanding.

She slowly reached to the glass dome and removed it, placing it on a table close to them. She motioned toward the rings, telling Draco to take them. 

He gingerly picked them up, noticing their engravings and gems. They were identical, so observing one would suffice. It was made of two bands of silver, one of them closer to a rose gold in colour which split into two more, encircling a large diamond between two small emeralds. The other band, slightly smaller, merged into the other at the sides. It had tiny diamonds set beside each other in it, and the whole band slipped under the large gems in the center, crossing diagonally. Inside the ring, the Malfoy crest was engraved.

“They’re beautiful!” Draco gasped, admiring all the intricate details.

“They’re goblin made, unique to any other ring in the world,” Narcissa added. “Now, put one on your left ring finger, and hold the other in that hand.”

“Does it matter which one?”

“No, they have the same properties and will change to fit your finger.”

He slid one on, and felt it shrink to the proper size and waited further instruction.

“Here is the most important part, you must wish for all the qualities you want your spouse to have, anything you want her to be, status, anything you wish, but be specific, don’t leave any grey areas. When you do so, the ring will know when you are done and will disappear to find that person. Within two days, it will have found her and you will know as well,” she paused. “Think about what you will say, I will leave the chamber to give you privacy and call me in when you are done,” She walked away, out the door and pushing it almost closed to wait. He didn’t worry she would hear, she was far enough. 

Suddenly nervous, he froze in place, not sure what he wanted. He looked at the ring and took a moment to compose himself. 

_This feels stupid_ , he thought, awkwardly speaking to a ring of all things.

“I wish for a person around my age, erm, someone who I know or have heard of so we’re not total strangers… someone who knows struggle and will understand me, someone whom I can understand in return. I wish for someone who wants to do good, who doesn’t want to hurt people. I wish for a person who doesn’t care about status or money, someone who will love me for who I am, not my wealth. I want to marry someone to whom I can freely express myself and not feel scared to say anything. I want comfort in my relationship with them, I want to be with someone who would do anything for me and I want to be able to love them so much that I can do the same,” he took a deep breath, readying himself to finally say it. “I wish for… a boy, no, a man. A man who values love and family, but is also a hard worker. I want a selfless man, someone I can spend my days in happiness with. I want to grow old with him, a man who will fulfill me, my other half. A man who will want children, maybe by adoption, and will stay loyal to us. Please find me such a one.”

He didn’t know what else to do, but noticed the other ring was oddly shining. It faded out and disappeared in a small flash of light. He stood still for a moment. _I did it! What if it doesn’t work? Surely it wouldn’t matter if I wanted a man? Yet again, this was made by prejudiced people, when my sort of attraction barely existed…_

He walked to the door to find his mother and called her back inside. “Now we must wait, when we arrive home I will alert the _Prophet_. The girl will see the publicity and will notify us. Of course, there may be others pretending to have earned your ring, but we must be cautious and know which ones are real,” she saw Draco’s uncertainty and spoke as if she had read his mind. “When we find her, there’s no need for you to marry immediately. You can wait as long as you would like, this is merely an engagement for you to get to know her better. If the two of you really don’t get along, it is possible to call off the wedding. There’s no need to fret, my dragon.”

Draco sighed in relief, not realizing he had been holding his breath. “And what happens if h-she doesn’t like me?” 

Narcissa smiled warmly at him, “Then you can try again, there’s no limit to how many times you can wish for a bride. But you won’t need to, in any case. The ring never makes a mistake, take your father and I as proof.”

That _was_ true. No matter how stoic they may have appeared, they loved each other deeply. 

She left him to his thoughts as she collected some money from the vault in her purse, “Come, Draco,” she motioned. “Guirnegs!”

Draco joined her in the carriage and they climbed back to the foyer of the bank.

* * *

“Thank you,” Barnabus Cuffe took the sealed envelope from the eagle owl and watched it fly back out the window it came from. That pane of glass was never closed, as it was the official “door” for all the owls flying in. People were always sending in letters either complaining or telling them what to publish. 

He looked down at the wax seal and saw the Malfoy crest, “What’s this?” He asked himself, inwardly worrying if he had somehow angered one of the oldest wizarding families. Usually he would say they were also the most respected, but considering their place in the war, they had moved down, _far_ down that list, in his opinion. 

He shrugged and broke the seal, pulling out the yellowed parchment. 

Inside, he found a letter, whose tone was thankfully not displeased. He read through its contents and found a _very_ interesting story. The Malfoy boy was to be married? The press would love this! But they didn’t know who the girl was? And they wanted to find her through a magic ring? He had heard of such a thing, but had never witnessed it. This was front page material! As long as there wasn’t anything too important happening, he would be sure to make this prominent and eye catching. People were more interested in reading and buying the _Prophet_ when something involving rich people came up. 

He laughed gleefully. At the end of the letter was a promise to send twenty galleons when it was published. Oh it was wonderful! The Malfoys have ranked up in the list, now…


	2. Nevemind, it's bad

Harry found the _Daily Prophet_ to be extremely boring, lately. It was all just propaganda, and a lot of it was related to him. He didn’t care for it anymore. If there was something really important that came up or Voldemort came back or something, Ron or Hermione would tell him. 

He planned on cancelling his subscription that morning, when the owl delivering that day’s copy arrived. All he would have to do is return a short letter saying he no longer wished to receive it with his name and address along with his last “payment”, and he would never see it again. Although, meeting the snowy owl every morning did fondly remind him of Hedwig; he missed her. 

Right on schedule, at eight o’clock, the large white owl flew in through the open window, looking expectantly at Harry. 

He quickly unwrapped the paper and slipped five knuts and his note in the small leather pouch.

He thanked her and watched her fly out, silently bidding her farewell. 

He unfolded the paper, ready to see the regular rumours or advertisements for new businesses. Instead, he was greeted with a large picture of a diamond ring on the hand of one Draco Malfoy headlined: **Malfoy heir engaged? Who is the Mystery Girl?**

What? No, that can’t be true. Is it?

By reading the accompanying article, he found out that the Malfoys had a set of magical engagement rings that found the perfect match for them. Of course they would be so extra, that was their style. 

He scoffed, they would see at Hogwarts; Malfoy would be linked arm in arm with his fiancée, and they would be the new rich couple in town. 

He continued getting ready for the day, he would go to Diagon Alley to buy some materials for the house. 

Since the war ended, he had been living in Grimmauld Place with Kreacher, who had given Harry permission to redecorate the old house. They had begun by cleaning and purging anything he didn’t want to keep, like they did in fifth year. Except this time, he got rid of more things and allowed Kreacher to keep the Black heirlooms and family tree tapestry in his own bedroom, Regulus’ old room. They were in a much better relationship, even better than when Hermione, Ron and him had been living there while they were on the run. 

“Kreacher thanks Master Harry! Kreacher will help master clean! Kreacher will! Kreacher is happy! Thanks you!” the house elf had cried in his raspy voice.

After purging almost everything, Harry planned to repaint the walls and try to remove all the nasty portraits and house-elf heads. He was thinking a nice grey, with a cool tint, and white trimming. That would make it look brighter and bigger in the rooms, instead of the dark and dingy green. 

Maybe some slightly green accent walls would look nice, he thought. He was still planning it out.

But first, he needed to actually remove all the old decorations. Since many of them had permanent sticking charms of the back, he thought maybe he could just cut that portion of the wall out and then replace it with drywall, he had been very interested in that sort of carpentry lately. Since it was only the beginning of June, he had plenty of time for this project. 

Why wasn’t he at Hogwarts, you ask? Well, he skipped out that year, first of all. And second, Hogwarts too had to be rebuilt after the war, so none of the students would be able to go back until September again. All the students would be held back to redo their previous year since the Carrows had done things the wrong way, to put it nicely.

He started to walk to the small library in the house to look for a spell that could accomplish the task of removing portions of the wall without damaging the structure of the house, when his vision went black.

“Whoa,” he shook his head.

“Is Master alright?” Kreacher asked with concern in his voice.

“I think I just stood up a little too quickly there, but thanks-” 

The last thing he remembered was the ground abruptly coming up to meet his face.

* * *

_Harry found himself standing in a large white tent, in front of rows of chairs which had a lane split down them leading to him. He looked down and saw he was wearing the nicest set of dress robes he had ever worn, better than what he wore to the yule ball!_

_He also had a white rose poking out of his front pocket, with bright green leaves. He had always loved roses, he thought._

_He looked around and noticed that outside the tent, there were tall trees draped with the most beautiful fairy lights, setting off a slight orange glow, offsetting the dark sky above them._

_He heard footsteps up ahead. He tried pulling out his wand - but it wasn’t in his pocket! So he cautiously listened to the noise growing louder and louder, not quickening a single bit._

_Soon, he could see a shadow lengthening around the corner, and anticipating an enemy, Harry stood with his knees slightly bent, ready to run._

_After a long minute, the figure appeared, showing another man on whom a light shone so brightly Harry couldn’t see his face, but his fear ceased immediately upon looking at the stanger._

_He felt… light. Lighter and happier than he had ever felt than he could remember. Time stood still as the other man approached him one step at a time._

_It was an agonizing moment, he wanted to jump out and be with the stranger so bad! But he knew that that wasn’t the ideal situation here. He needed to wait for the other one to join him._

_Finally, they came face to face, and Harry thought he recognized those eyes, though he couldn’t be sure, and then, almost by instinct, they started to dance. He thought it strange that there was no music, but apparently he was doing the right thing._

_At the end of the dance, the palms of their left hands touched each other in mid-air by their heads as the last pose, and Harry felt a warmth so brilliant that he never wanted to let go. He noticed a gleaming diamond that had appeared on his finger, yet as soon as he had, he seemed to be pulled away from the other man._

_“No, stay! Please!” Cried the stranger, though Harry felt he wasn’t a stranger anymore._

_And Harry tried to speak, but no air would come out of his mouth, and soon his body lurched away from the man and his vision went black._

Harry lurched awake, "What was that?” he muttered.

“Master Harry! Is you alright?” Kreacher asked, and Harry realized he was in the dining room, laying face first on the floor, and that the house elf had been standing above him. 

“Yeah, I just had a weird dream. How long was I out?” He sat up and shook his head. Luckily, it didn’t hurt too bad. 

“Only a few seconds, sir, but Kreacher was worried, does Master need a healer?”

Harry stood up, testing his balance, “No, I think I’ll be alright,” but Harry was also concerned as well. Who fainted out of nowhere, had a dream that felt like it lasted hours, and woke up after only a few seconds? Something bizarre was going on. “But thank you, Kreacher.”

Kreacher eyed him suspiciously, but knew to obey his master’s orders. He walked away, picking up Harry’s breakfast plate and bringing it to the kitchen.

Once he was alone, Harry remembered the reason he had stood up from his chair in the first place. “To the library,” he mumbled to himself, and walked up the stairs to reach the Black library that could be accessed through any of their houses or mansions only by one of its family members.

Harry had access, though, because he was Sirius’ godson and had inherited the Black Family heir signet ring when Sirius fell through the veil. But he couldn’t take certain items or books from it, that was something only the Head of House could do. He imagined it was Narcissa Malfoy, who was a Black herself before she married.

Once at the door that opened to the magnificent room, he placed his left hand on it, which could sense the magic of the ring there. It swung open, letting him in. 

He brushed a piece of hair out of eyes, but a silver gleam caught his eye. He glanced at it, expecting to have seen the reflection of the light on a window or something. He did a double take.

_Where the hell did_ that _come from?_

* * *

Draco sighed. He had had second thoughts about yesterday. What if such a person - especially a male one - didn’t exist? Would he still be forced to marry someone? To marry a girl? Of course, many pureblood families didn’t care about love or happiness, only status and blood purity, so he wouldn’t have to particularly love the person he married. But he didn’t want to spend his entire life with someone he didn’t care about! Yet, what if his ‘choice’ wasn’t good enough for his parents?

But kept all his doubts to himself, hidden under the mask he had perfected over his life. 

“Good morning, Draco,” his mother called as he strode into the dining room for breakfast.

“Morning, Mother,” he replied.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked, still reading the _Daily Prophet_ for that morning.

“Yes,” he answered curtly. Narcissa nodded and handed him the paper, folded to show the front page.

On it, his ring was displayed along with the headline **Malfoy heir engaged? Who is the Mystery Girl?**

The last word made him sick. Contrary to what his Hogwarts House said about him, he really didn’t like lying. He didn’t like hiding anything. He hated the attention it brought, the rejection sometimes; he dreaded it.

He gingerly released the paper on the table and served himself some breakfast; Eggs Benedict, his favourite.

At least today wasn’t too bad so far. 

As soon as he picked up his fork and knife, a sharp pain shot up his hand. 

He dropped the utensils, “Argh!” He localised the throbbing to his new ring. “What’s going on?!” He yelled, trying to pry it off, with no luck. It felt like it was boiling now!

And as suddenly as it had arrived, it was gone. 

Draco, who was now standing, tried to regain his composure. “W- what was that?” He asked with a forced calm, pointing at his left hand. 

“That was the other ring,” said Narcissa, looking expectantly at him.

“What do you mean, _the other rin-_ Oh! It found h-her?” He almost slipped up there. Oh he couldn’t wait to be out of this mess.

“Yes, now we wait for her owl; she will have to contact us first.” 

Draco nodded, swallowing his uncertainty, turned and excused himself

“Where are you going, my Dragon? There’s no need to be scared,”

“I’m not hungry anymore,” he said quietly “I’ll be in my room.”

“Alright,” Narcissa went back to her breakfast.

As soon as he was out of her sight, he scrambled up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door, casting silencio as to not worry his mother. 

He breathed deeply, “Fuck.” 

What was he going to do? With his luck, his fiancé would owl them that very same day, and his mother would wonder why they didn’t have a girl’s name. And then Draco would have to explain that he didn’t want to marry a girl, that he was - gay. And he didn’t want her to know yet! What had he been thinking yesterday! He should’ve just said “I want to marry a girl” and this would’ve all been over and done with. 

Sure, he wouldn’t have had the companion he would’ve preferred, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being disowned!

He buried his face in his hands, wishing this could all just go away. 

But maybe, when the boy owled him, it would come to him first. So he could stay in his room all day, waiting for that piece of parchment to arrive attached to the foot of an owl, and then burn it. Incinerate it until there was nothing left, no evidence of it. And then he would tell his mother he hadn’t received anything. 

Yes, that could work.

But would she believe that no one had mailed him?

Wait. Didn’t she say yesterday that people around the wizarding world would pretend to have gotten the ring because of the advertisement in the _Daily Prophet?_ What if he randomly chose one of those people to marry, a nice, pureblood girl with whom he could live and produce an heir. Wasn’t that the only thing that his family cared about? Surely, he could pretend. 

But he didn’t want to pretend!

Ugh, it was torture! 

Should he just leave it, then? Wait for the boy, and risk dishonor? He _was_ eighteen, now. He could technically go off, find a job and live on his own. He had plenty of money in his private vault at Gringotts, enough to find somewhere to stay. 

But his mother had wanted him to finish his seventh year at Hogwarts, and maybe he should. That was a safe place to stay, for a whole year! That would give him time to think it over. 

Yes, that is what he would do. But first: the letter. 

Will he burn it? Hide it for reference in the future? Show his mother? He could rewrite it and replace the boy’s name for a girl’s. No, she knew his handwriting. 

He decided upon hiding it, he still wanted to keep some evidence, just not enough for Mother to find out. 

He strode to his bookshelf, half-content in his decision, and picked a random book, one off to the left, up near the top, where he rarely looked. He planned on sticking the letter _there_ , out of sight, held between the books that would hold it tightly in place. He looked back at the book he had taken out and read the description on the back. He quickly realized that it was one of the only books in his room he hadn’t opened yet. He wandered to his window seat, propping himself on the many pillows that sat there. 

This would be the best place to wait, a perfect view of any bird flying toward him.

 _I’m ready_ , he thought, and plunged into the fantastical book in his hands.


End file.
